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Complete j$pta» af JuMit instruction. 



AN ADDRESS 



BEFORE THE 



ASSOCIATION OF THE ALUMNI 

OF THE 

UNIVlRSITY OF THE CITY OF NEW-YORK, 

June 28, 1852. 

BY C. S. HENRY, D. D. 

— ••• — 
PUBLISHED BY THE ASSOCIATION. 



NEW-YORK 

1853. 



THE TRUE IDEA OF THE UNIVERSITY, AND ITS RELATION 
TO A UGMPLETE SYSTEM OF PUBLIC INSTRUCTION. 



AN ADDRESS 



BEFORE THE 



ASSOCIATION OF THE ALUMNI 



IWtemtj of ft* Citg of |kfo-$fork, 



June 28, 1852. 



BY Cfs5 HENRY, D. D, 



PUBLISHED BY THE ASSOCIATION, 



M'lLLIAM C.^AKTajf. J'JdNTEI!, 
No. 111 John Street. 

1858. 



. hi 45' 




fWW YORK PUDL. UHSSt 
IN BSQiUHMh 



1852—3. 



PRESIDENT. 

GEORGE H. MOORE 

VICK-PRESIDENT. 

HOWARD CROSBY. 

SECRETARY. 

WM. R. MARTIN. 



COMMITTEE. 

A. OAKEY HALL. 
M. M. VAIL, 
JOHN SEDGWICK, 
JOHN J. CHRISTIE, 



At the Annual Meeting of the Association of the Alumni of the University 
of the City of New-York, held in the University Chapel, on Wednesday, 30th 
June, 1852, the following Resolution was unanimously adopted. 

" Resolved, That the Rev. Dr. Henry be earnestly requested to furnish a 
copy of his valuable Address, delivered before the Association, for publication." 
Extract from the Minutes. 

Wit R. MARTIN, 

Secretary. 



The Twenty-first Anniversary of this Association will be celebrated as follows : 
On Tuesday evening, 28th June, 1853, at 8 o'clock. The Oration before the 
Association by Prof. J. W. Draper, M. D., in the University Chapel. 

On Wednesday, 29th June, at 4, P. M. The Annual Meeting of the Associa- 
tion, in the University Chapel. 

On the same evening at 1 o'clock, the Dinner at the Astor House. 



ADDRESS. 



Gentlemen of the Association of the Alumni 

of the New- York University : 

Your Association, young gentlemen, is that of a Brother- 
hood of Scholars : but not a Brotherhood of Scholars united 
solely by the common bond of liberal culture and the love of 
good letters, but also by the finer and tenderer bond of your 
common relationship to the institution in which you received 
your intellectual nurture. It recognizes that as your Alma 
Matee— the benignant mother of your minds. The idea is 
a beautiful one ; and the sentiment it inspires is not less 
beautiful. It is at once a filial as well as a fraternal senti- 
ment that brings you together at this festival season of our 
Academic year. You come here as brothers, because nurs- 
lings of the same fair mother. And though she is but a 
young mother, — scarce twenty years old, — she can already 
count by hundreds the children she has borne. Year by 
year, during nearly every year of her own existence, she has 
dismissed into the " wide wide world " a goodly band of sons 
brought forth and brought up by her. Some of them have 
not been long away from her fostering care — the younger 
brothers among you, the purple light of youth, the purpu- 
reum lumen juventutis, still fresh upon them ; but others 
have been a good while gone, doing manly work in the ser- 
vice of their country and of mankind, to their own honor and 
their mother's fair renown. She is about to send forth ano- 



ther band of her children, an accession to the ranks of your 
brotherhood. This is the occasion that brings yon together 
now : and I hope the filial, no less than the fraternal senti- 
ment will be quickened aud deepened by your re-union. 
For the strength of the parent's heart is in the children's 
duteous love. And your Alma Mater is that sort of mother 
that may live forever ; and however old in years she may 
become, and venerable for age, may yet flourish in perpetual 
youth, the faithful mother of new bands of sons year by year 
to the end of time, with a perpetual improvement, too, in 
the intellectual life and development and nurture which her 
children draw from her. That such may be her destiny, is, 
I trust, with you, an object of earnest desire and of loving- 
hope. But its accomplishment depends on conditions which 
I know not from what other quarter they can so well be 
expected to be supplied as from your influence and exertions. 
For this reason, gentlemen, I have thought fit to occupy the 
hour of your meeting here to-night in presenting some con- 
siderations on the state of Higher Public Instruction in our 
country — its defects and needs, and the obstacles which stand 
in the way of realizing what every lover of good learning, 
and every enlightened lover of his country, and his race too, 
must desire to see among us — considerations which, I hope, 
may serve in some degree to give incitement and direction 
to your efforts for the prosperity and fair fame of your own 
Alma Mater, and for the advancement of the interests of 
Higher Education throughout the land. 



*&•■" 



A complete and perfect system of Public Instruction im- 
plies, gentlemen, institutions for Primary, Secondary, and 
Higher Education. The Common School is for Primary ; 
the Academy (as it is called among us) is for Secondary ; and 
the College and University for Higher Instruction. The 
Common Schools should exist in every town and district in 
isuflficient numbers to give to all the children of the common- 



wealth, of both sexes, the rudiments of necessary learning, 
the first elements of a sound education. The Academies are 
institutions where all those of either sex, whose condition 
allows, whose inclination prompts, or whose destination in 
life demands a greater degree of intellectual culture and a 
larger amount of ifnowledge than the Common School can 
give, may find the means of acquiring it. They should pro- 
vide for imparting every thing included in the idea of what 
is familiarly called a good thorough English education, and 
also the Classical learning necessary to prepare young men 
for college. With the Academies I would also connect Nor- 
mal instruction, or the training of persons for the special 
vocation of Teachers in the Common Schools or elsewhere. 

But of these institutions I shall not further speak. It is 
to the state of Higher Public Instruction that I wish spe- 
cially to direct your thoughts. 

And to put the subject immediately before you, that you 
may see at once the scope and drift of my remarks, I will 
say at the outset, that we have in this country no Universi- 
ties, and we need them : we have Colleges ; and they need 
to be reformed — subordinated to the Universities, and con- 
nected with the lower institutions in such a way as to form 
a complete and perfect system of Public Instruction. This, 
gentlemen, is what I wish to unfold and put in a clear light. 
I shall give you the results of reflections that have, naturally 
enough, occupied my mind from time to time, for many years : 
but I have greatly to regret that broken health and the pres- 
sure of many cares have not allowed me time to put the expres- 
sion of them in such form and method as I could desire for 
this occasion. 

I have said, gentlemen, that in tins country we have no 
Universities. We have not. We have the name, but not 
the thing. A University, in its proper notion, is an institu. 



6 

tion which affords every possible advantage for the perfect 
acquisition of every branch of science and learning included 
within the circle of liberal studies. It implies an assemblage 
together in one place of all the conditions and means requi- 
site for pursuing these studies to the utmost possible extent. 
It implies that anyone competent to enjoy its advantages, 
may find himself surrounded at the University with all the 
aids and appliances needful or desirable for carrying out his 
studies, to the highest point of perfection, in any direction 
throughout the whole sphere of science and letters. 

The University, gentlemen, is an organic whole : and so, 
like every other organic whole, it- must have its organizing 
principle, its determining idea — in virtue of which all the 
constituent parts find their title to admission, their place and 
their form ; from which they grow ; around which they group 
themselves, and by which they are held together as one per- 
fect whole. "What is this constituent principle, this central 
idea ? It is a well organized body of learned and able men 
dispensing the highest instruction in every branch of science 
and letters ; not the meagre and superficial instruction which 
alone can possibly be given by one person undertaking all 
branches or many branches, and who having of necessity 
only a smattering himself, can of course impart no more than 
a smattering to others ; but the profound and thorough in- 
instruction which can be given only by the members of a 
learned society numerous enough to carry the division of 
labor to the greatest desirable extent ; thus allowing each 
one, and making it each one's duty, to devote his best ener^ 
gies to the cultivation and perfectionment of his own depart- 
ment, and to the communication of the fruits of his studies 
in the clearest and best methods of exposition. Out of this 
well organized division and connection of labor, comes that 
perfection in every part, and that completeness and unity of 
the whole, which makes the University what its name should 
import — a place where the universe of liberal studies is unfold- 



ed to the ingenuous mind in all the fullness and richness of 
its infinitely diversified forms, and yet as one great harmo- 
nious whole of Truth, Beauty, and Goodness. 

But there are also certain material conditions included in 
the notion of a University, because they are necessary to 
enable the members of the learned society to discharge their 
functions. These are buildings, lecture rooms, and especially 
libraries, apparatus,' laboratories, and collections in nature 
and art — so ample and complete as to leave nothing wanting 
for the investigation and illustration of every department of 
science and letters, whether for the use of those who dis- 
pense or those who receive instruction. 

Such, gentlemen, is the University in its true idea : and I 
say again, that while we have the name among us, we have 
not the thing. We have many Colleges, and several institu- 
tions with the name of Universities, but which are in reality 
only Colleges. But a College neither is a University, nor can 
fulfil the function of a University. This is true, whether 
you look at the matter in a theoretical or a practical way ; 
whether you consider what a college ought to be and to 
accomplish ; or whether you consider what our colleges, as 
they at present stand, actually do or are able to accomplish. 
In a theoretical view, a College is an institution designed to 
form the generally well educated man without reference to 
any particular destination in life — to carry on the culture 
and discipline of the faculties generally, already begun in the 
lower institutions., to carry it on to such an extent, and also 
to impart such an amount of liberal knowledge and to accom- 
plishment, as will prepare the young man either for a digni- 
fied and useful position in cultivated social life, or for pro- 
fessional studies, or for that further, more extensive and 
profound study of the liberal arts and sciences in any special 
direction, for which it is the business of the University to 
provide. And so in theory a College is not and ought not 
to lie a University, In the next place, in a practical view, 



8 

btu* Colleges cannot, if they would, accomplish the proper 
functions of a University. They are none of them adequate- 
ly provided, and most of them very slenderly provided with 
the material conditions requisite for the profound and tho- 
rough study of all branches of science and letters — I mean 
libraries, apparatus, collections in nature and art. Nor less 
deficient in the personal conditions. In most of our Colleges 
there is only the Faculty of Science and Letters ; and the 
body of Professors is so small, that it would not be possible 
for each Professor to give those extensive, complete and 
thorough courses of instruction, Avhich the idea of a Univer- 
sity implies, in any one, much less in all, of the subjects 
which it is made his duty to teach. This, I say, would not be 
possible, even if he had nothing else to do. But he has 
something else to do. His time is fully employed in impart- 
ing comparatively elementary instruction to immature young 
minds, but partially prepared perhaps for the course of col- 
lege studies. What advantages then, do such institutions 
afford for carrying out the study of the whole circle of liberal 
arts and sciences to the utmost possible limit? None at all. 
In some of our Colleges there are Faculties of Medicine, Law, 
and Theoloa-v. But this does not make them Universities. 
For the courses of instruction are organized in respect of 
extent, time, division, and other particulars, to meet the spe- 
cial and practical demands of professional preparation, rather 
than as parts of a University system : and even if this were 
not the case, what has been shown in regard to the Faculties 
of Science and Letters would still hold. And so it is obvious 
that our Colleges do not and cannot accomplish the functions 
of a University. 

That Universities are a need for this country, is a point, 
gentlemen, Avhich I should feel ashamed to think it neces- 
sary to argue before you. "We do not need a great many of 
them ; but a certain number— amply supplied with all the 



9" 

material and personal conditions for realizing the true and 
noble idea of such institutions — we do need. Who can doubt 
they would have an influence that can be brought into action 
in no other way, in advancing the great interests of science 
and good letters— interests, with which, I need not tell yoa i 
gentlemen, not only the intellectual and moral well being, 
but even the material prosperity of the nation, are indisso- 
lubly bound up. They would. Such institutions would be a 
glory and a blessing to the land. 

Supposing, then, Universities to be established, what shall 
be done with the Colleges ? Let them exist : let them, if 
need be, be multiplied. For the College holds an indispen- 
sable and most important place in a perfect system of Public 
Instruction. It is the place for the liberal education of those 
who do not go to the University, and by means of the liberal 
education it imparts, it also prepares for the University those 
who wish to advance to the highest degree of learning and 
science. No student should come to the University who is 
not prepared to profit by its advantages : and no one is pre- 
pared, who has not already acquired the amount of mental 
discipline and of liberal knowledge which form the well 
educated man. This it is the proper function of the College 
to impart. The College does not, and cannot form men of 
profound science and learning in every department of liberal 
studies. It does not make masters and doctors, competent to 
fill the Academic chairs of Universities or of Colleges, or to 
be in any sphere the great teachers of the world. This is 
not its function. It is the function of the University to do 
this. And on the other hand, it is not the special function 
of the University l-oform the liberally educated young man : 
it takes him already formed. The University is not the place 
to train and prepare the young man to think, and to study 
for himself; but to take the young man already prepared to 
think and to study ; and then to help him in thinking and 



10 

» studying for himself, and to carry him forward, by instruc- 
I tions more extended, profound, and diversified than the 
[ College can give, to the greatest possible perfectness of know- 
ledge, whether in science or in learning. And the proper 
place, in a perfect system of Public Instruction, for the young 
man to gain the knowledge and the j>ower to think and study 
which fit him for the University, is the College. In this 
view, and for those who go to the University, the College 
is subordinate to the University. But the College in its 
proper function, is not limited to preparing young men for 
the University. It is also to form well educated men who 
do not go to the University. "We need a certain number 
of profoundly learned men in every department of science 
and letters : eminent Masters and Doctors, great lumina- 
ries in the intellectual sphere. These the University is to 
make — that is to say, to supply the best means, and all the 
means for enabling them to make themselves. But we also 
need an immensely greater number of well educated young 
men : men whose minds have been trained by a course 
of liberal studies sufficiently diversified, and carried to a 
sufficient extent to ensure a vigorous and well propor- 
tioned development of their faculties. These the college 
makes, or, as before, gives them the best help to making 
themselves ; and so does a work which the University can- 
not do, — I will not say a more or a less important work than 
that which the University does ; for it is idle and foolish to 
draw a comparison between the importance of two things, 
both of which are indispensable to the Commonwealth. 

Let there be Colleges, then ; and let them be sufficiently 
numerous to afford a place for all who seek a liberal educa. 
tion. But let them be reformed. Let them be made what 
they ought to be. Let them be conformed to their proper 
idea. Let them not attempt the functions of a University ; 
for, as we have seen, they cannot and ought not to fulfil 
them. Let thorl be places to give a really " liberal educa- 



11 

tion " in the fine old scholarly meaning of the term. Let 
the course of studies be " liberal " studies. Let not the object 
be the acquisition of special knowledge for this or that par- 
ticular destination in life. Let such special acquisitions come 
afterwards as any one may choose. Let the college course 
of under-graduate studies be mainly a discipline for the mind. 
Let it afford scope and means for the freest, fullest and 
most harmonious development and culture of all the mental 
faculties, without reference to any particular destination in 
life : and for these acquisitions of knowledge and accom- 
plishments of taste, which, form the true liberally educated 
man. And for this end, there is no conceivable organization 
of studies so well adapted as the good old fashioned curricu- 
lum of classical, mathematical, logical and rhetorical studies. 
These studies properly proportioned, and thoroughly pur- 
sued, involve and secure the very best possible training of 
the mind. 

And this brings me to notice one of the great defects of 
our college system. Both too much and too little is done : 
and the consequence is that almost nothing is clone as it 
should be. The four years of under-graduate study, is short 
time enough, in all reason, for accomplishing to any really 
good purpose the course I have mentioned, — even if the stu- 
dent comes from the Academy or Grammar School with a 
thorough preparation in elementary classical and mathema- 
tical learning, and with a considerable degree of culture and 
discipline of mind. And yet, into this four years, we have 
now crowded a multitude of additional studies — making a 
list almost as large and wonderful as that which lively young 
ladies accomplish in the fashionable schools, where all lan- 
guages and learning, all sciences and arts are learned in 
three years, and all the accomplishments besides. And while 
thus crowding the course, we have at the same time, on the 
other hand, instead of raising the terms of admission, in 
practice often lowered them to almost nothing. What is the 



12 

consequence ? Multitudes of young persons enter our col- 
leges without sufficient preparation, and some of them too 
young to be able to get it. They are unfit to go with profit 
through the course of classical and mathematical learning, 
even if it were not compressed and hurried through with, in 
order to make some time for the modern additional courses, 
which, in their turn, of necessity often are compressed into 
mere meagre and fruitless compends. Some, the older, or 
more earnest and diligent students, make the best of it— work 
nobly, gain something, which enables them to educate them- 
selves after they leave college : but the younger or more 
indolent, drag heavily through the four years, — and leave 
College with "small Latin, less Greek," and no living insight 
into the principles of Science ; with diplomas in their hands 
which they could not, some of them, for their lives, bear a 
creditable examination upon. Such is a strong picture (but I 
am sad to say, and sure as sad, it is not an untrue one) of the 
wretched consequences that have come from attempting too 
much, and doing nothing thoroughly. And the remedy lies 
in a return to the proper idea and proper work of the col- 
lege, — in discarding from the college curriculum those 
courses which properly belong to the University, or to the 
professional and practical schools ; and in establishing and 
adhering 'inexorably to a far far higher standard of pre]3ara- 
tion for admission ; in making a thorough mastery of the old 
liberal course a possibility and a reality — and so inspiring 
that true love for good learning which thorough learning 
always does inspire, and imparting that high discipline and 
line culture which will be through life a source of pleasure 
and a source of power. 

Understand me, gentlemen, on one point. I have no objec- 
tion to all sorts of courses of practical instructions (as they 
are called) in the modern languages, in physics, in the appli- 
cations of science to the useful arts — in short, everything; 
which the spirit of the age and the wants of the times are 



13 

said to demand ; I have no sort of objection to their being 
connected with our colleges — provided two tilings : first, that 
such practical courses be, in their nature either literary or 
scientific ; and second, that they be not crowded into the 
four years undergraduate course, but come after it, or on one 
side of it. As to the first condition, there must be some 
limit : and if this be not the principle of limitation, you 
cannot have limit unless an arbitrary one. There are various 
vocations in practical life, which not only proceed upon 
scientific principles, but which also imply and demand a 
scientific knowledge of those principles on the part of those 
who follow them : such as Civil Engineering, Navigation, 
and the like. And to such you must limit these practical 
courses in our colleges : else you must also have college lec- 
tures on the science of soap-making and calico printing, and 
every other useful art. Within this limit, such practical 
courses may well be admitted into our colleges, for the bene- 
fit of those who cannot go to the University to study the 
sciences and their applications from a purely scientific inte- 
rest, and in the connection and extent in which they enter 
into the University system. But I insist on the other condi- 
tion — that they be not crowded into the proper undergraduate 
course; for that would be a detriment to both. The proper 
College course, the simply Academic course, is needful for 
the pure interests of science and good letters, needful to 
make scholars with the spirit of scholars, prepared for the 
University, and for social and public life ; and nothing should 
be crowded into it to impair its proper function. 

There is another point in which I would alter the practice 
of our Colleges. It is in the matter of degrees. I have said 
that the College does not and cannot form men of profound 
science and learning in every department of liberal studies. 
It is not the province of the College to make Masters and 
I )octors, competent to fill the Academic chairs of Universities 
and of Colleges, or to be in any sphere of science and learn- 
ing the great teachers of the world. That is the province of 



14 

the University — so far, that is, as it depends on any institu- 
tion to do it. Our Colleges now confer the title of Master 
and Doctor. But they cannot form the thing. The thing 
itself, the true Master, the true Doctor, the competent man to 
fill Academic chairs, or in any way to set up to instruct 
his fellow-men with any title to their deference as having 
something of just authority to teach — this, I say, the thing 
itself, of Master and Doctor, if it gets made at all in our 
country, is not made by the Colleges : it is self-made after 
the College has been gone through with and left behind. The 
very practice of our Colleges in conferring these degrees is 
an admission of this fact. They are mostly not given in 
course, but as honorary recognitions that men have made 
themselves what the college did not make them. This would 
be all very well, so long as we have no true University, pro- 
vided these titular distinctions were conferred only where 
they are thoroughly deserved. But as it is, there is some- 
thing laughable, and at the same time sadly degrading to 
high letters, in the way in which these honors are scattered 
broadcast over the land — and some of them without any 
regard to their special significance : — the title of Doctor of 
Laws, for instance, lighting on the surprised head of some 
eminent political, literary, or other distinguished personage 
who perhaps never in his life opened a book on the Canon or 
the Civil law ; who knows not, it may be, the distinction 
between them. He is made Doctor of Laws, because, being 
a layman, it would hardly do to make him a Doctor of Theo- 
logy, or being a Clergyman, the doctorate of Divinity is not 
thought quite sufficient for his years, his popular eminence, 
or the worldly importance of his parish ! 

But let true Universities be established : and then let the 
Colleges be restricted from conferring any other degree than 
the Baccalaureate. Let all the others be University degrees. 
And let them all, both in the College and in the University, 
be conferred only when fairly earned ; not as a matter of 



15 

course after a certain attendance on the lecture room, as is 
too much the case now : but only after a thorough and rigor- 
ous examination sustained in the special Faculty, be it Arts, 
Theology, jyeclicine, or Law, in which the degree is taken. 
Let the degrees be taken, or in the old Academic language 
be " proceeded to," not given as mere titles. Let any man 
take them all, if he will study for them and earn them : but 
let no man have any of them u]3on any other condition. Let 
this be the rule — there may be occasions for special excep- 
tions — but let this be the rule : and then the title would be 
something more than an empty name. It would be a gua- 
ranty for the presence of the thing. It would have some 
weight, some authority. It would be a real honor, to be 
sought for, and won and worn with honest pride, to the great 
benefit of all the interests of truth and good letters. 

Before dimissing the topic of the proper idea of the Uni- 
versity, I will take occasion here to say a word as to a Theo- 
logical Faculty. The great number of distinct religious 
denominations that exist in our country, and the importance 
which each one naturally and justly attaches to the theolo- 
gical system by which it is distinguished, renders the estab- 
lishment of a University Faculty of Theology a matter of 
great practical difficulty. To avoid this difficulty, the organ- 
isation of a Theological Faculty was expressly excluded from 
the plan of the New- York University. My learned and 
accomplished friend and predecessor, in his recent admirable 
tract on University education, proposes to avoid the difficulty 
in the same way.* But I cannot agree with him. A Faculty 



* University Education, by H. P. Tapfan. At the time this discourse was delivered, Pro- 
fessor Tappan was elected to the Chair which my broken health compelled me to resign ; and 
it was to me a matter of great joy that my place would be filled by one so eminently qualified 
to do honor to the institution, and to promote all the interests of true learning and science. He 
has since then accepted the office of Chancellor of the University of Michigan. May all suc- 
cess attend him. I may mention here that I learn from him that he has changed the opinion 
expressed in his tract, to which reference is made above, and has, on further reflection, come- 
to the same view as that I have taken. 



16 

of Theology is as indispensable as any other Faculty to the 
idea of a complete University. The Science of Theology — ; 
to say nothing of its importance in its higher religious and 
practical aspects-^-is, in the philosophical principles which 
underlie it, in its history, in its literature, in its relations 
with the civilization and social culture of mankind, one of 
the most profound and profoundly interesting departments of 
human thought and knowledge. A University, in the pro- 
per sense of the term, without a Faculty of Theology, is a 
thing that cannot be created. And rather than avoid the 
practical difficulty by mutilating the true idea, I would 
attempt to realize the idea in the most comprehensive way : 
' — by organizing the Theological Faculty in sections suffi- 
ciently numerous to meet all reasonable desire of the differ- 
ent religious denominations, so that the Faculty of Theology 
would in fact consist of several distinct Faculties, each sub- 
stantially complete— allowing, if you please, each commu- 
nion to have its special system represented in the University 
by a body of Professors of Theology, supported by its own 
endowment and appointed on its own nomination, subject. to 
such limitations and common regulations as the University 
organization would make requisite. Students might then 
attend the lectures of either of the sections, or of several, or 
of all, according to their choice-— degrees in Theology, how- 
ever, depending only on passing the proper examinations in 
the complete course of some one section of the Faculty, 
whichever they should elect. In this way all objections on 
the score of the University favoring one religious system at 
the expense of the rest, would be avoided ; while the widest 
and freest scope would be given to the pursuit of Theological 
Science : and surely that man must have small confidence in 
his own creed who imagines the cause of truth would in any 
way suffer in the long run by such an organization. 

Such, gentlemen, is my view of the needs of Higher 
Instruction among us : the University created ; the Colleges 



17 

reformed. Let this be done in the way I have sketched ; 
and then with the Common Schools and Academies, we shall 
have, and not till then shall we have, a complete system of 
Public Instruction. 

!Now, gentlemen^ to create and sustain such a system, we 
must, I think, look to the State. I know this suggestion 
Will strike you as burdened with great difficulties — immense 
obstacles in getting the State to undertake the matter ; and 
immense liabilities, if she should undertake it, that the true 
and noble idea, especially of the Higher Institutions, will be 
violated, impaired, or imperfectly realized, not only from 
incompetent legislation in the organization of the system, 
but from the pernicious influence of party politics in its 
administration. In view of these liabilities of mischief, I 
should vastly prefer that the University should be entirely 
independent of the State ; that it should be established by 
the s union of private individuals enlightened enough to con- 
ceive the true idea ; rich enough and liberal enough to pro- 
vide the requisite material endowments ; and wise enough to 
leave the whole organization and administration in the hands 
of competent men versed in academic affairs, whose special 
profession and vocation it is to understand such matters. 

But, gentlemen, I must say that I think there is less to 
hope for in looking in this direction than to the State. And 
so to the State, it seems to me we must look, if any where. 
Besides, in a theoretical view, the State is the proper power 
to do this work — under the obligation of doing it rightly and 
well. It is the obligation of the State to provide a complete 
and perfect system, of Public Instruction. The obligation is 
already partially recognized in the practice of this Common- 
wealth, as well as of many other States in the Union. Be- 
sides, the State is the only power able, in some respects to 
do the work as it should be done. To create the University ; 
to perfect the College ; and to organize them in connection 
3 



18 

with the primary and secondary institutions into one great 
whole, such as the needs of the Commonwealth demand, such 
as the idea of a complete system of Public Instruction 
implies, is a public work, and can be well done only by the 
public power. These institutions, moreover, should be free. 
No charge for instruction should be made in any of them — 
no more in the University and in the College, than in the 
Common School. This is implied in the very idea of Public 
Instruction. To effect this, immense appropriations of money 
are needed. This is another point that must not be omitted 
in our view of the case. To create a great and true Univer- 
sity in this Commonwealth ; to perfect the organization of 
the Colleges and Academies ; to increase their number, if 
need be ; and to give free instruction in them all, would 
require millions of expenditure. To establish in this City a 
great University, such as ought to be established, requires a 
provision for the proper dignified support of at least fifty or 
sixty Professors. There are nearly a hundred and fifty in 
the University of Berlin. They must be supplied too with 
all the material conditions for their work : — buildings, libra- 
ries, apparatus, museums, and galleries of art, and the like. 
I cannot put down the expenditure necessary to effect this- 
at less than three millions. And several millions more 
would be required to perfect and complete the organization 
of the Colleges. In short, a complete system of Public 
Instruction requires an expenditure that can only be made 
by the State. 

But the State can do it. Eminently of the Public Will is 
it true that " where there is a Will there is a Way." Let 
only the people of this State feel the importance of it to the 
glory and welfare of the Commonwealth, and what is ten 
millions ? what is twenty millions % A tax so trifling as to 
press with scarcely a feather's weight on any one, would 
enable the State to command the amount, and in ten years 
repay it both principal and interest. Three millions to found 



19 

a University in this City ! It sounds large: but in less than 
twice three years it might he saved from the needless and 
profligate expenditure of this most misgoverned town. 

The thing can be done if only the people will it. To lead 
them to will it is the great point. They have willed great 
public works of material utility for the public health and 
convenience, and for the increase of the public wealth. They 
need be made s«e that there are spiritual utilities more 
important still to the best life and welfare of the Common- 
wealth. They need be made see that a great and perfect 
system of Public Instruction, though it do not reimburse its 
cost in the visible and tangible revenue of dollars, is a higher 
public interest than Croton Water Works and Erie Canals, 
which do : that if it be a wise and politic thing in the public 
to create the one, it is even more so to create the other ; and 
far more noble and honorable and fitting to the glory of a 
magnanimous Commonwealth. 

To stir up the public mind in this matter, belongs emi- 
nently to the educated young men of the State. And you, 
gentlemen, if you enter at all into the greatness and noble- 
ness of the idea ; if you appreciate its paramount importance 
to the interests of Science and Good Letters, to all the moral 
and all the material interests of the Commonwealth ; you will 
not be deterred by the difficulties that lie in the way, from 
exerting the great influence which your liberal culture puts 
it in your power to wield, m forming the mind and guiding 
the will of the people of this great and rich State in a right 
direction on this point. This is the practical purpose I have 
in view in this discourse. This is the great mission which I 
conclude my Academic life by invoking you to undertake, 
and as far as in you lies, to accomplish. 

You will have great obstacles to overcome. I admit it. 
"With a vast multitude of the mass of the people, there are 
probably not so much false views and positive hostilities to 



m 

contend with, as the absence of all views, and all sense of 
the importance of any system of higher Public Instruction. 

But the greatest and worst obstacles lie in the prevalence 
of false views and strong prejudices of various sorts among 
other classes. Of these let me sketch a few types. 

There is McCheese, the great provision dealer. He started 
in life scarcely more than able to write his name. He has 
made money. He is rapidly rolling up his plum. He turns 
up his nose in greasy contempt at the idea of taking his 
money to make learned men. What is the use of learning ? 
He has got on without it. He is opposed — not from any 
hatred of it as something of superior value which he does not 
possess. For he knows of nothing of superior value to 
money. It has never entered his head that any body else 
should be so foolish as to dream there was. It is simply a 
useless whim : and he is opposed to having his money taken 
for what is useless. All his brethren will equally oppose you 
for the same reason. 

Then there is Gubbins, ex-Auctioneer, long enough retired 
upon his fortune to have, in the intervals of turtle and cham- 
paign, looked around him and found out that there are in 
society some men, particularly men of learning and science, 
who aifect to think there are other things in the world 
entitled to deference besides the mere possessor of money. 
He has perhaps, a dark conception they may be right. But, 
at all events, with the instinct of a proud but ignoble nature, 
he hates what he tries to despise. He w T ill oppose anything 
that puts his title to supreme deference in question. So will 
his brethren. 

There is again, Fitzroy Cunningham, Esq., shrewd, clear 
headed, clever; with immense activity and versatility of 
mind, he has all his life been engaged in extensive and com- 



21 

plicated transactions of trade and commerce — lias amassed a 
more than princely wealth, which is still growing to greater 
and greater expansion. With but a slender education, though 
perhaps at the ripe age of eighteen, he took a college de- 
gree, before he went into his father's counting house, yet he 
has, since then, made himself variously intelligent, acquired 
a vast amount of information of facts, events, men and things, 
that have fallen under his observation in life — the kind of 
knowledge therefore, he naturally holds in most respect. He 
lives in a splendid palace up town ; his wife drives out in a 
gorgeous equipage, and gives brilliant entertainments. But 
Fitzroy still keeps in his busy sphere, because he loves it and 
is proud of it, not merely for its wealth and the social conse- 
quence it brings, but for the various energies and keen activ- 
ities it demands. He has little respect for learning and sci- 
ence in themselves. He has a certain respect for great law- 
yers, great politicians, and eminent public functionaries. 
But both he and they were made at the colleges, such as they 
are, in the slight degree in which they owe anything to the 
college. Such institutions he is willing i® patronise — perhaps 
be a trustee, if it gratifies his egotism : in which position he 
will regard the Faculty as in some sort his employes, much on 
the footing of his upper clerks (hardly that), whom it is his of 
fice to tell how to do their work, (landsmen teaching pilots 
how to steer,) and to get the maximum of work at the mini- 
mum of salary. But as to creating a great University, a 
great Society of Learned Men, with an ample public provi- 
sion for their independent and dignified support — a society to 
which he is to look up with deference, as the great ornament 
and glory of the city, a great light and benefaction to the na- 
tion — he has no idea of it. It is a project for making a great 
nest of dreamers and drones, entirely out of place amidst the 
splendid material and practical activities of the age. Be 
sure you cannot count on his help. He will not oppose you 
with the vulgar hatred of G-ubbins ; but he will dismiss you 



22 

with a severe, contemptuous disregard of your plan. So will 
his brethren. 

There is, besides, Quinfeus Squeely, able editor of the Daily 
Trumpet — politician, philanthropist, social reformer, believer 
in social progress, in divinity of the people, (except those who 
differ from him), believer in everything more than in the 
wisdom of the Past. Clever man. Really able. Of mani- 
fold abilities. Can write. Can think too. Says many wise 
and good things. Honest withal. So I deem Squeely. Great 
believer in himself, no doubt ; but also honest believer in 
truth — that which he thinks such. But not a learned man. 
A self-made man : with the one-sidedness that often belongs 
to such men. He has already in advance opposed you. He 
bloweth with his Trumpet to the people, to warn them against 
you. He telleth them that Common Schools are for the peo- 
ple : Colleges and Universities are only to"pamper the pride 
of the rich, the grinders of the faces of the people. He 
bloweth with his Trumpet against the legislators — warning 
them of the wrath of the people, if they take the people's 
money to build up or sustain aristocratic institutions, contra- 
ry to the Gospel of Progress which the Trumpet proclaim- 
eth : " Peace on earth ; and averj man's coat cut the same 
length with his neighbor's." " Useless institutions too," saith 
Squeely. " Look at me. Am not I able editor, politician, 
social reformer, writer, thinker % E o college made me. I 
made myself. That is the way to make men." 

Foolish Squeely ! Foolish able editor ! Ivnowest thou not 
that there was a stuff in thee, and a spirit that has made 
thee an exception to the general rule. Few men perhaps, 
with thy lack of advantages, would make themselves as able 
as thou. But with the advantages thou lackedst, many might. 
Besides, clever as thou art, able editor, writer, thinker, thou 
art not a learned man. No disgrace. How shouldst thou be ? 
The thing for thee to be ashamed of is, that thou shouldst 

L.rfG. 



23 

decry what thou hast not. For, those who are both as able 
as thou art, and as learned as thou art not, have said and tes- 
tified in many ways from age to age, that learning, high 
learning and science, and the discipline that comes with them, 
are good things, and minister to the greater ability of the 
ablest of able men. Hadst thou started in thy career of life 
possessed of the manifold culture and accomplishment of a 
thoroughly educated man, thou mightest have beaten thy 
actual self, as much as thou now beatest many a printer's ap- 
prentice with whom thou beganest thy career. 

There is too, Ptolemy Tongue-end— -patriot, democrat, dem- 
agogue orator. He blows with his noisy breath a blast very 
much in unison with the Daily Trumpet. He " stumpeth " 
at Ward meetings. Unlike honest Squeely, he has no faith 
in the people, except in their gullibleness— no faith in any 
thing except the wisdom of buttering his bread with the peo- 
ple's money. And so he blows any blast that he thinks may 
help him to the favor of the sovereign people. He getteth 
into the legislature, and there ojmoses with great wrath and 
noise, all grants to Colleges— calling them anti-democratic ; 
though he knows in his heart all the while, that it is, of all 
things in the world, the most democratic that the people 
should be taxed for the endowment of the highest institutions 
of learning, free to all, as are the Common Schools— that so, 
the children of the people, out of the pockets of the rich, 
may receive an education that shall enable them to take 
their share in the great prizes of life. For nothing is more 
true than that the great prizes of life (other things being 
equal) are grasped by those who have the highest, most 
thorough and liberal education. And without a great and 
perfect system of free Public Instruction, including the 
University and the Colleges, as well as the Common Schools, 
the children of the poor are, as a general rule, condemned to 
a hopeless disadvantage, in competition with the sons of the 



24 

rich, in all the higher careers of life. There may be excep» 
tional cases : but such must be the rule. This is so patent 
and palpable, it seems to me, to every man of common sense 
and common candor, that I have little patience with the false 
and stupid twaddle which hollow-hearted demagogues, like 
Tongue-end, or hopelessly wrong-headed able editors, like 
Squeely, are perpetually pouring into the ears of the unen- 
lightened masses — putting the Common Schools and Colleges 
in opposition to each other : as if there was any contradiction 
between them ; as if one was not as necessary as the other, 
as if every principle of that democracy they prate so about, 
did not require that the State should provide, not only free 
primary instruction for all the children of the people, but 
also the highest instruction for all such of the children of the 
people as desire to go onward and upward into the higher 
spheres of useful and honorable exertion. Gentlemen, you 
may boldly join issue with these praters. Expose the fool- 
ishness of their hackneyed cant. Keep on doing so : and in 
due time, if you persevere, you will certainly disabuse the 
public mind. Tongue-end will oppose you—till the people 
begin to think, as he in his heart now thinks. Then you will 
have his noisy voice equally in favor of the Colleges, and of 
a great University endowed by the state. Then he will find 
out that such institutions are exceedingly democratic. As 
to Squeely : he will hold on honestly blowing his Trumpet to 
the same tune he now does, until he comes of himself to a 
wiser mind. Of which, small hope. 

Such, gentlemen, are some types of the opposition you will 
encounter. Others might be sketched did time allow. Be- 
sides these, there is another class of hostile influences, not 
directly opposed to the creation of the University, but in 
several respects, standing in the way of the full realization of 
its true idea. Of this sort is the party spirit of religious 
sectarianism — the odium theologicum — -that bitterest of all 



25 

hatreds; and the meddling spirit of solemn incompetent 
mediocrity in high political and social places, thinking it 
has a special gift and vocation to busy itself in fostering the 
interests of learning and science, yet destitute of any true 
academic ideas ; and so meddling but to mar, and sure to 
oppose if not allowed to mar. All these things are against 
you. A formidable array. I admit it. 

But, gentlemen, there is no reason to bate heart or hope. 
The work to which I invoke you, is a great and noble work. 
Not without encouragement to resolute and patient labor. 
Tongue-end and Squeely, Cunningham and Gubbins, and 
McCheese are not all the people of the land. There are 
others — numerous in every class, especially among the more 
enlightened, whom your influence may hopefully reach. 
Truth and sound opinion need only zealous and resolute, 
and, above all, patient propagandists, and in time it will 
spread outward and downward — as all sound opinion the world 
over must and always does spread — through the great, honest 
and well disposed masses, who are ever ready in heart and 
will, to give their support to whatsoever the glory and welfare 
of the commonwealth demands. 

Supposing the University to be established on the footing 
I have suggested, there are certain ideas and principles 
relating to its administration — to the organization of the 
courses of instruction ; the constitution of the Faculties ; the 
filling of the Academic Chairs ; the source of Academic 
Honors ; the conferring of Degrees, and the principles, con- 
ditions and modes of their bestowal- — which are indispensable 
to the highest success and usefulness of such institutions. 
These I intended somewhat to have considered. There are 
certain notions and practices, certain ways of thinking and 
and feeling prevalent amongst us on these points, which are 
utterly at variance with the true theory of a University, with 
all pure academic principles. These I intended to have sig- 
4 



26 

nalized. But the just treatment of these topics would require 
a discussion too protracted for this time. I had therefore, 
better not now enter upon them. At some other time, and 
in some other form, I may perhaps call your attention to 
them. 

I must now bring my remarks to a close. And the circum- 
stances in which I stand before you will, I trust, through 
your kindness, be allowed to justify a word of personal 
reference. For more than twelve years I have discharged 
the duties devolving upon my Professorship in this institu- 
tion ; and you who have attended at my lecture room — as 
most of you have — know with what earnestness and zeal I 
have discharged them. These labors have been their own 
exceeding great reward. I have loved the work. I have 
tried to do your minds good. I believe you think so too. I 
have enjoyed the good will of my colleagues, and such a 
kindly appreciation of my services on their part, as leaves me 
nothing to desire on that score. These are convictions which 
I cherish more than it is worth while for me to attempt to 
express. 

It is not a light thing therefore, for me to resign my place 
here. I had hoped that in the groves of Oakwood — in the 
beautiful retreat, which, in the intervals of academic labor, 
has been my home for eighteen months, I might find such 
repose and invigoration for my overworn nerves, as would 
enable me still to discharge the pleasant labors of my office. 
In that hope I am disappointed. The sentence of entire 
" rustication " has been passed upon me — and that in a worse 
than the academic sense of the term ; for it is without limit 
of time. I bow to the decree of the doctors, and I will add, 
not irreverently, to the will of God. And, in taking leave 
of you and of my public labors, I beg you to accept the assu- 
rance of the lively interest I shall ever feel in your personal 
welfare, and in the prosperity, enlargement, and fair renown 



of the institution which lias been the scene of the labors of 
the best years of my life. A University in name, I hope 
through your resolute and persevering efforts, it will become 
a University in the fullest reality of the thing — a glory and 
blessing to this city, to the nation, to mankind. God pros- 
per the cause of science and good letters, of truth and human 
progress throughout the world. 



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